


Supreme Leader & Last Jedi: Caught in the Act!!! CLICK HERE

by commandercrouton, Trish47



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crack, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Fluff and Humor, Force Bond (Star Wars), Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Post-TLJ, Shameless Smut, Smut, Strongly worded Letters, and is kinda good at it, kylo ren unintentionally becomes a porn writer, slightly dom!Rey, video exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21798247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandercrouton/pseuds/commandercrouton, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trish47/pseuds/Trish47
Summary: Dubious, explicit videos are circling the holonet showing the new Supreme Leader ravaging the Last Jedi. Outraged, Kylo decides to write to the creators. Though he intends to make them cease and desist, his messages quickly devolve into suggestions for improvement.When the Force Bond connects them, Rey has her own notes to add.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 49
Kudos: 465





	1. Chapter 1

Kylo drums his fingers on the side of his seat, holding his head up with the other hand, elbow propped on the chair's arm. His patience is as thin as his temper these days, and Hux seems to delight in testing it at every tactical committee meeting. Choking him would be so easy, pleasurable even—listening to him squeak out pleas for mercy while Kylo's fingers pinch together.

It would also be _too_ easy. And it would play into Hux's plans too well.

The man has never been subtle about his desire to take over as Supreme Leader. Kylo remembers lying on the _Supremacy_ 's floor after the kyber crystal burst apart; he remembers the surge of passion rushing through the Force, the sense of impending victory. . .

Maybe Kylo never saw Hux draw a weapon against him, but he knows exactly what the cur wanted.

All the more reason he won't rise to Hux's monotonous provocation. Kylo won't give the other commanders reason to doubt his stability, nor his rule. He vowed not to reign as his former master had: through fear. The others in the room already seem to be avoiding his gaze; no need to give them further incentive to rally against him.

So he listens to Hux drone on and on, providing non-committal answers when necessary, until the meeting finally ends. As the other commanders and admirals file out, Hux lingers.

"Is there something else?" Kylo does his best to sound dismissive.

Hux rounds the conference table, dragging along a holopad with the tip of his finger. "How can you sit there and purport to not know?"

Kylo inhales deeply. "Know what?"

He slides the holopad in Kylo's direction, a furious glint in his eyes the only sign of his slipping control. "You're becoming a mockery across the galaxy. Would a figure the people respect lead to the production of this filth?"

The sounds of wanton moaning and an accented voice swearing fill the air as Hux stares disapprovingly from behind him.

His cock twitches in his pants as he imagines a certain scavenger making such lewd noises for him, but that is not what is happening. Or so he thinks. Until he hears the mysterious woman cry out 'Supreme Leader,' and all of a sudden, Kylo is extremely interested in what is occurring on that holopad.

A mere glance would have one believe it's him fucking a scrawny woman from behind. But Kylo does not spare only a short glance. He studies it with the eye of someone who has spent his whole life in academia.

In reality, the woman is all wrong. _She_ does not have bangs like this woman. _She_ would never accept being spoken to like a common animal. And for fuck's sake, the inimitable Kylo Ren would never make his lover beg to come all over his cock. He may not possess every courtly manner his mother would have liked, but he is still a gentleman. All his lover would need to do is ask and he would gladly soak his hard member in her pleasure.

It is most certainly not his fault he imagines a certain scavenger coming undone underneath him. It is all the holopad's fault, truly.

A clench of his jaw has that insolent bastard Hux believing he is staring at the holopad in anger over this so-called ForcePorn using his likeness.

Let him continue to think that. Hux does not deserve an explanation.

"These fools think you would succumb to mating that dirty rebel. It's making a spectacle of the Order. You must put a stop to it. The galaxy cannot continue to think you would fuck something akin to an anim—"

The last word chokes from Hux's mouth as Kylo curls his hand menacingly. A twitch of his gloved hands constricts Hux's throat entirely, blocking his airways.

"Leave."

The word is not a suggestion. Kylo relaxes his hand and places it beside him, his attention already back on the holopad. He ignores the sound of Hux gasping and coughing on the floor beside him like the pitiful man he is.

He waits patiently until he hears the door slide shut, signaling the rabid cur's exit. As he continues to watch the video, he pulls out his personal holopad and begins to draft a message.

This just will not do.

Kylo taps in letters on the holopad as the woman in the video assumes a position on her hands and knees, waving her ass in the air with a lascivious sway of her hips. The camera catches a shot of a sloppy pink cunt, but its color sits wrong in his stomach. It isn't that color because she's been thoroughly tongue-fucked and had a mouth sucking on her core; no, it's raw and chafed and the result of negligence. In no universe would he ever act as this man has; it borders on abuse, even if the Jedi's impostor moans as if she's enjoying herself.

Besides, the woman's ass is all wrong. Rey's is muscular and voluptuous; this one looks like two deflated vibrowheels.

It has to stop immediately.

Tapping more furiously on the holopad, Kylo writes:

_To the entities behind ForcePorn,_

_Your video titled "desert rat seeks Supreme cum—all holes!" is dreadfully inaccurate in its portrayal of Supreme Leader Kylo Ren and The Last Jedi._

He pauses, considering whether he should include Rey's name. In that moment he also realizes something else: he can't sign this message from himself. He needs a pseudonym. Just when he's settled on Matt, another frustrating thought enters his mind: he'll never get the site to remove the video. Once something is on the holonet, it stays there forever. Perhaps, then, he should change his goal. Hux's main concern is about the defamation of his character and how it represents the Order. Well, no shit this was defamation: they'd painted him as an uncaring, coercive lover. . .and that isn't true.

He continues the message with this in mind:

_If you wish to make this as realistic as possible—which would surely drive traffic to your site—I have a few suggestions. First, get rid of the girl. She doesn't match the Jedi at all. Second, give the new girl's pussy devoted attention—cunnilingus would be preferred, but fingering (with gloves) is another option. Rumor on the ship is that the Supreme Leader has a nice mouth. A good, well-tooled mouth. Find an appropriate man for this, as you'll obviously need to ditch that god-awful imitation helmet._

_Your sincere and most earnest attention to these details is appreciated._

_Respectfully,_  
_Matt_  
_Radar Technician_  
_First Order Enterprises & Good Friend of the Supreme Leader_

_P.S. Also, I have it on good authority that Kylo Ren has an 8-pack. Kylo Ren is shredded. Plan accordingly._

The message is sent almost immediately after he finishes composing it.

* * *

The longer he waits for a response the angrier he becomes. Who do these nerfherders think they are? Do they not know the Supreme Leader of the galaxy reached out to them? Before he types up another message, with a few choice words included, he remembers he didn't sign his name as Kylo Ren. He'd used a disguise.

Rubbing his gloved hands along his jaw, he comes to a decision. Typing in the address, he's brought back to the website in question, staring at the video which depicted him as an inattentive lover. The sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the air as he peruses a list of videos featuring the two of them.

And there he finds it: "Supreme Leader Licks Sand Rat."

A quick link brings him to the recently uploaded video. It opens with a discarded mask similar to his own as the actor goes down on a woman with features closer to Rey's. But it is still _not right._

He's not tan. Nor is he blonde. At least his abdominal muscle count has been corrected. He quickly pulls out a journal and begins taking notes to compose his next message. The sound of his quill scratching on parchment soothes his angry nerves.

Until he hears the woman whining to come, yet again. Kylo rolls his eyes. He would have made her come twice by now. She would be sated if he had anything to say about it.

Nor are the features correct. The slope of her neck is wrong. The freckles are fake, smearing across her cheeks as she sweats. Worse yet, the terrible actress is begging to stop so she can give the fake Kylo pleasure rather than receiving her own.

It's all wrong.

Part of him wonders if he should just send in a script. . . It might not be a bad idea.

Once he has his thoughts summarized, he pulls up a blank message screen on his holopad and begins to type his second request.

_ForcePorn Creatives,_

_The attempts at progress in your most recent video, "Supreme Leader Licks Sand Rat," are appreciated, if underwhelming. Clearly, the actor you have chosen to portray our great and generous Leader does not have the capabilities of pleasing his partner. Is it so difficult to assume that, in a video allegedly highlighting the cunnilingual skills of Supreme Leader Ren, you would find an actor proficient enough at the act to make it believable? The poor girl you've selected to portray the Jedi (a closer physical representation, though her accent is too nasal and her performance is rather mechanic), doesn't seem to be enjoying herself in the slightest. This isn't something our Leader would find tolerable, since your video caption claims to be "found footage" (an otherwise decent marketing tactic)._

_If I may make another suggestion: your story is lacking. Using the_ Supremacy's _old throne as a prop is not only offensive, but inaccurate. The throne was destroyed along with the ship. Perhaps a more proper setting would be the Leader's TIE_ Whisper _. Moreover, in an environment where Leader Ren would seem to have the most control, having the Jedi take the reins of their exchange would be most. . .satisfying. To illustrate, imagine that she balances on the seat, digs her fingers into his hair (get rid of the blond; for kriff's sake, have you never seen an image of Kylo Ren?), and guides his head between her legs._

_As a reminder, it would be in your site's best interest to make sure the girl comes more than once before she sinks onto his lap and rides him. I have seen the Supreme Leader undressed; he's bigger than the actors you've cast thus far. The girl should be adequately prepared._

_Your dedication and attention to these revisions continues to be appreciated._

_Respectfully,_  
_Matt_  
_Radar Technician_  
_First Order Enterprises_

He hopes the writers at ForcePorn will have the decency to look out for his messages now they know he is only trying to help them. They should be on their knees thanking him for taking the time to correct their pitiful mistakes. And what mistakes they've made. He shakes his head silently musing over the clips he watched. How many times must they be informed the Supreme Leader would never leave his woman wanting. If they were aboard his ship, he would have dismissed them all for their incompetence.

Staring at the unsent message, Kylo comes up with an idea that borders on genius. Maybe the scriptwriters' poor attempts come from a lack of knowledge or experience. Maybe they don't know how to please a woman. Maybe all they need is some. . .direction.

With that thought in place, Kylo retrieves a spare piece of parchment. Dipping his quill in the calligraphy ink, ensuring the tip is nice and wet, he begins to draw diagrams to better aid ForcePorn's producers. The first sketch is of him giving Rey oral pleasure in his TIE _Whisper_. He refuses to recreate her facial details, afraid of compromising her identity, choosing instead to focus on the small curve of her waist and what her toned legs would look like wrapped around his head as she tugs his hair in pleasure.

The increased pressure in his pants is just a simple side effect. It has nothing whatsoever to do with the attraction he feels for her.

"What are you doing?"

The sudden question startles him into falling off his chair, scattering the papers around him. A hearty laugh fills the air, a sound that reminds him of home and a relationship that could have been.

Looking up, all thoughts disappear. He unconsciously licks his dry lips. Staring wide-eyed at the woman who has plagued his dreams, all he can see is her. Their bond is as strong as ever.

"Rey."

* * *

Maybe she should be angry the Force connected them yet again. Maybe she should be concerned that the mental wall she's used to shut him out has suddenly fallen away and she's here—well, not really—staring at the back of his head for the first time since Crait.

But she isn't angry, and she isn't concerned. She's. . .relieved. It's like the Force has decided to remind her she isn't alone.

Finn, Rose, and Poe, among all the other Resistance fighters, have been wonderful. Leia, too. They've taken her in and made her one of them over the last month. But they're busy. Training. Healing. Commanding. There's precious little time to spend together, especially since Leia asked Rey to focus on finding other Force sensitives. It means spending a lot of time on the _Falcon_ with Chewie. But her Wookiee partner is typically buried in the floorboards, completing repairs when they aren't flying. It leaves Rey a lot of time to herself, which never used to bother her. . .until she started having long-distance conversations with her enemy.

Is he still her enemy? Was he ever her enemy? Would her gut fill with flutters if he was?

Rey laughs not because he upsets his seat and falls to the floor, but because she's caught the Supreme Leader doodling something on ancient pieces of parchment when he should probably be engaged in more productive uses of his time. She steps closer and toes the edge of one of the sheafs, still smiling. "Drawing up your grand plans for the First Order old-school style?" she inquires. Finally, she succeeds in turning the paper over and squints down at the drawing before he snatches it away. "What—?"

Even after the paper is removed, the sketch lingers in her mind. Shoulder-length black hair on a head wedged between two feminine thighs. The beginning marks of a tongue set against unfinished labia—white space that speaks volumes. The woman had no head, and Rey wonders why her more telling features—her face and her sex—have been left un-rendered. More importantly, whose features would he include in the final draft?

Her gut clenches to strangle the butterflies that erupt over thinking it would be hers.

Rey takes a step back, knowing it's her room in the _Falcon_ beneath her feet yet feeling as though she's in his personal quarters. But her curiosity won't let her go far. She wants to know. And so she asks. "I didn't realize you were so artistic. . .. Drawing from memory, are you?"

A flush creeps up the back of Ben's neck as he realizes she saw what he was drawing. What must she think of him? She must not know about the horrible things that are out on the holonet about him. Them. Stars, she can't know. If she did, what would she think of him?

He knows he would be a gentle and giving lover, but if she ever saw those blasted videos created by ForcePorn, then she would never want to be with him.

"It's research," he finds himself answering in a clipped tone. It doesn't betray the panic he feels rising within him, staring at the object of his affection in front of him.

"Research," she repeats, as if she can see right through his line. And maybe she can. He is no closer to understanding this Force bond between them than when it first started.

He chooses not to answer. Instead, he studies her form as she stands tall before him. She is so much different than the last time they met. Rey is tall and confident. Tanned skin brings out her delectable freckles that he wishes the writers at ForcePorn would include. If they could only see her now, they would never dare diminish her form by using that busty and pale fool of an actress.

She must sense he won't speak anymore on the subject because she sits in place, watching him with wary eyes.

"What are you doing?" he whispers.

"Waiting for the bond to disappear."

He's surprised by how much it hurts. He should know better. He was the one who offered her the galaxy. She was the one who threw it all away.

"I see." He turns around, hunching over his parchment and scribbling out the explicit image. Why should he care what they say or show regarding him and the scavenger? It's not like she does.

They sit in silence, both refusing to look or speak to one another. Coupled with the naturally tunneled sound within the bond, it's deafening. The words he desperately wants to tell her sit heavy on his tongue. With a resigned sigh, he turns around and faces her.

Something like hope shines in her eyes, and no, that can't be right: her hand is reaching out to him across the stars.

"Rey," he begins, before the Force cuts them off. Crumpling the drawing in his hand, he stares at the now empty spot.

Their connection has cut, just as she'd wanted it to.

* * *

She had wanted it to close, right? The hand still hovering in the air in front of her, half-extended and empty, says otherwise. Her name falling from his lips right before the Force separated them again echoes in her mind. Why did it sound so desperate in her ears? So soft? What was he going to say to her after all this time without speaking to one another?

Rey drops her hand and crouches down by the _Falcon’_ s main bunk to retrieve a journal from her drawer. She'd picked up a new, blank one in a port city in the Outer Rim. It reminds her of the one she'd had while living on Jakku. She'd filled those pages with observations about the world's flora and fauna, its dangers, outposts, and people. She'd written it with the intent of leaving it behind, with the belief that someone else would find it and use the wisdom she'd recorded based on her time there.

This new journal will never see anyone else's eyes. It's hers and hers alone. The sketches she's made focus on one individual: Ben Solo. With his image fresh in her mind thanks to the bond, Rey sits on the bed and scribbles out lines as quickly as she can. She's determined, this time, to get his lips right. They're thick and full, only slightly plumper on the bottom than the top. The peaks of his upper lip are defined, the valley between them wide and gently sloped, beckoning. Her thumb would rest there perfectly. She'd press it there and drag her thumb down, tugging his bottom lip down, too, asking him to open for her. His jaw stays clenched so tightly; she just wants him to relax it and let her and her tongue inside.

As she's sketching around his lips, adding smoldering eyes and a frame of dark hair that dusts along his curved chin, her holopad lights up with a notification.

She pulls it over. It's a ping from Rose—a question that makes her eyebrows arch: "Ummmm? Seen this?"

Before she can reply, Rose sends her another message. This one with a link including the phrase "Supreme Leader Licks Sand Rat" in the code. Rey's face turns scarlet. More and more of these videos have been popping up the past few days. Poe alerted her to them first, much to Rey's utter mortification. To his credit, Poe had handled the situation more diplomatically than she'd thought possible for him. He seemed angry, even, that her image had been reduced to that of a screaming, sex-crazed woman.

Rey ignores the message. Sleep is more important than watching a woman who resembles her very little—and a man who doesn't come close to matching Ben's likeness—fake an orgasm. She'd rather dream of the lips she saw this evening. There'd be no need to fake an orgasm if those lips were on her.

When she wakes up, she has another ping from Rose with a more insistent question. There's also another link. This one leads to a video titled "Supreme Leader Silenced by Jedi Pussy."

Well, now they have her attention. . .

The title excites her more than she thought it would. A twitch of her fingers ensures the door to her room is locked and secured, barring anyone from entering. Rey settles into her firm mattress, adjusting the pillows to a comfortable position before clicking on the play symbol.

The video opens up with a man greedily licking a woman's most sacred center, and her cries fill her room. Rey scrambles to lower the volume, cheeks going pink. The man has dark hair like Ben, but there is something so _off_ about him. This actor does not possess the gentleness Ben has shown her. This man is all confidence and swagger. It's wrong.

The woman however...the woman bears a striking resemblance to her. The freckles and the hair seem to match, almost as if someone helped guide the porn creators in their pick. Which is complete nonsense. Who would care enough to make sure her actress was similar to her in a video on ForcePorn for kriff's sake?

Her eyes never stray from the screen as the video shows a close up of the fake Ben Solo licking and sucking on her womanly folds. The cries he elicits from the woman aren't fake. Nothing could sound more real.

"I'm gonna make you cum all over my face, Jedi. I want you to claim me as yours with your delicious juices. I will make you cum over and over again. And when you can't take it anymore, I'll bend you over and fuck you so good."

"Oh, Supreme Leader, I love your tongue. You know just how to please me. And your eight pack is so delicious. It makes me wet just thinking about it."

Rey has to fight back a laugh as she hears the comment about the eight pack. She has to find out who helped write this atrocious script and learn how they infiltrated the First Order to glean this information.

The Jedi comes with a scream, and Rey can't help but squirm, feeling wet heat pool in her underwear.

The camera pans out, displaying a shot of the Supreme Leader kneeling in front of the Jedi. Rey freezes.

No. This can't be right.

Rey almost drops the holopad in front of her, shocked by the image burned into her brain. The heat that swallows her body is different than when she touches herself. No. This heat is all consuming. Because now, she knows. She knows exactly what research Ben was doing.

Picking up the holopad, she sees the video is paused on the exact scene that triggered the connection. Fake Rey is currently sitting on a pilot's chair while Fake Ben is between her legs, lifting them over his broad shoulders to expose her wet center for his mouth.

It's the exact image Ben drew.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey has some thoughts and suggestions of her own regarding what to do about the ForcePorn videos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for waiting for part two of these shenanigans. We had so much fun writing this together!  
> Note: tags have been updated

Back propped against his headboard and one knee bent, Kylo stares at the holopad resting on his thigh. With one hand, he scribbles on the pad of parchment propped vertically against his other thigh and opens the link to ForcePorn's latest attempt to capture the Supreme Leader and the Jedi in shameless abandon. He nearly snaps the tip of his pen when the recording opens without preamble—unless a loud, long moan from the new girl counts as a preamble while the title card flashes across the screen.

There's no setup, no story. Just his double—a fair representation of himself, or at least an improvement over the blonde in the previous video—circling not-Rey's clit with his tongue over and over again. Her hand falls to the crown of his head, threads through the one-shade-off-from-black tresses, and angles it a little to the right. She's not really in control, but the illusion is there.

Kylo’s dick twitches between his legs, prompting him to shift them further apart. It's a good sign, he supposes. That he's reacting this way says the video has attained its desired impact. He thought he'd just be jotting down more notes to put into his next message to the creators; however, now he's considering if it wouldn't be a better idea to abandon his notes and unbutton his pants instead.

The dialogue draws him out of the fantasy, making him cringe and release a tired sigh. He pauses the video, then drags his fingertip along the bar at the bottom to replay the atrocious exchange and scrawl out hurried corrections before resuming the video. When they aren't talking, the actors aren't too terrible. He can feel the woman's keen in his bones when she comes, and when the camera zooms in to focus on the impostor Supreme Leader lapping up her release, it's clearly not the fake stuff most pornos use. It's the real thing.

Kylo groans, presses his head against the frame behind him, and rolls it from side to side. He momentarily shuts his eyes, licking his lips as if he can taste her sweetness on them. The bulge in his pants is near painful now, but he wants to make it through the rest of the recording. Heaving in a shuddering breath, he starts it again.

Turns out, the creators didn't follow all of his suggestions. Instead of the Jedi sinking onto the Leader's cock while he sits, she's the one in the chair. The man looms over her, curling his arms under her knees and drawing her forward to sheath himself.

"Oh Maker!"

Rolling his eyes at the woman's exaggerated cry, Kylo’s dissatisfaction grows as the man plows into her with increasing speed and less control. He’s like an animal. While he’d love to get lost in Rey until higher thoughts and functions abandon him, he can’t picture himself ever pistoning in and out of her to the point she’d place a hand on his abs in an attempt to have him slow down.

His thrusts would be measured, powerful. He’d bury himself in her and watch each expression flitting across her face, settling for nothing but abject pleasure and ecstasy.

Ignoring his hard-on and the beads of sweat dotting his hairline, he reaches for his holopad, intent on composing another message.

That’s when the air goes still, the sound tunnels in his ears, and he knows he’s fucked.

He can feel her eyes staring holes in the back of his head. His heart stutters and his face flushes as he realizes what she caught him doing. His voice stutters out, a feeble attempt to defend himself. His words are caught in his throat. This is the end. Maker take him now. She’ll never want him after this.

Her voice breaks through his thoughts. "I see you found our videos."

Wait. She _knew_?

"Can you believe this?” she continues. “The earlier videos are terrible, but they seem to be getting better."

That breaks him out of the stupor, her body now in his visual field as she stands across from him. "You've seen them?"

"Unfortunately. They really didn’t get your likeness right."

"Yes, exactly. Exactly! I tried telling them that, but so far they haven't listened to my advice," he mutters, the tip of his pen tapping against his plump lips. Rey's eyesight is instantly drawn to it, momentarily distracted, until the words he utters sink into her mind.

"You tried. . .telling them?"

The tips of his ears burn, and he knows she can see them. How does one explain that they've inadvertently become an erotic screenwriter and critic?

Rey's hands perch on her hips, then dangle at her sides, forming fists when his eyes track their movements. Her defenses are still up, despite the heat uncoiling in her belly. She's in enemy territory—almost literally. She can feel the air condensers cooling his space, the liquid silk of his surprisingly luxurious sheets in an otherwise austere quarters. There aren't many soft edges here—just as there aren't on the man who inhabits this room—but the black fabric looks like a pool she could fall into and swim through.

She indulges herself and her curiosity, sinking down on the mattress while keeping one pointed foot on the floor. Ben swallows, dark eyes watching her. He conspicuously places the holopad across his lap, but he's not fooling her.

If she weren't so intrigued about his admission over being in contact with the creators of the videos, perhaps she'd comment on his reaction to them. The pink tips of his ears are rather adorable, offsetting the stern frown on his lips as she stares at him.

"I take it you didn't send a cease and desist order," she begins.

He shakes his head once. "If I did that, they'd continue making them anyway. Explaining how they can. . .improve their content seemed more prudent."

"‘Prudent,’" she echoes, stroking the sheets with one hand. Maker, are they soft. "Why not let them make the videos the way they want?"

His teeth edge to the right, then grind back into alignment. "There are certain images that could be damaging to our leadership.

The carefully chosen words are something she has to chew through. The vague qualifier. The predictions. The plural responsibility. She takes a moment to process it, draws in a deep breath, then shrugs one shoulder. "I don't see how it damages _your_ image. Your character has all the power in the videos. Seems to me that benefits you."

"No." It's almost a bark, how quickly and vehemently he denies it. His bare torso even inclines toward her until he reins himself back, combs one hand through his dark tresses. They look almost as silky as the sheets. "No, it's not a benefit. It's not about that. It's about accuracy."

"‘Accuracy’?"

His left eye twitches, but he doesn't blink. "Do those videos match with how you imagine I'd touch you?"

Rey fights the urge to blush and fails miserably. The heat in her belly shoots straight up, a volcanic eruption, and blasts her cheeks with red splotches. Still, she tries to play it off and crosses her arms, offended. "Who says I imagine anything like that?"

Her breath hitches at the brazen way he asks her about her innermost fantasies. Is this the way she imagined him touching her? She eyes his gloved hands. They’re tense and clenched in tight fists. The creases of the leather that surround his pale skin call to her in a way she is unfamiliar with. Unconsciously, she licks her lips. Ben's eyes zero in on the movement. He does his best to adjust his pants without drawing attention to himself, but he fails.

"What do you imagine, my little scavenger?" His question is quiet and soft. It reminds her of the delicate caresses she determinedly does not imagine as Ben's hands trailing over her skin.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Her voice surprises her: breathless. When did they get so close to one another? She can count the moles scattered across his face, study his heavy-lidded gaze. His breath flutters against her cheek, and she finds herself closing her eyes, waiting for his touch.

Ever so slowly, he raises his hand and caresses her cheek. Rey parts her lips and gasps as she feels the cold leather against her skin. His thumb brushes her lower lip, tracing the outline of her plump pink pout.

"Ben.”

Freezing at the sound of the pure desire in her own voice, she stills, hoping he will pull away from her before they both do something they regret. The bed shifts and the faint sound of the holopad clattering to the floor barely registers within her mind. She can feel him inch closer, his heat wrapping around her.

"I would very much like to know," he whispers into her hair.

His voice is sin. A temptation that will lead her down the darkest of roads. Fighting the shiver, she opens her eyes slowly to see him looking at her. His gaze is a mixture of lust, hope, fear, and vulnerability. She knows at once that this is a man who is just as afraid of what could be as she is. Bravery courses through her veins as she closes the distance between them. Soft lips press against one another, and she can feel his body stiffen in surprise. This is a sin worth committing repeatedly.

"I think it would be best if I show you."

Ben growls at her heated response, before kissing her back hungrily and guiding her to lie on his soft, decadent sheets.

It's everything she wants, this kiss—a release of months spent yearning, fantasizing, longing, on both their ends, apparently. His tongue sweeps into her mouth, as far from timid as her battle cry, and she accommodates him before exploring his in return.

One leg swings over her hips, and Rey finds herself caged between his thighs. As he continues to kiss her, Ben scoots back slowly, lowering and flattening his body on top of hers, allowing their bodies to rub together. They may still have a few layers of clothing between them, but the hot outline of his erection is unmistakable.

Rey moans into his mouth, sounding almost exactly like the actress portraying her in the last video. Ben takes it as a cue to grind his hips more earnestly against her. "Is this what you wanted, scavenger?"

_Yes._

_Maybe._

"No," she gasps, twirling her fingers in his thick hair and tugging to get his lips off her neck. She doesn't need the distraction. She needs clear, rational thought.

Her answer stalls his movements, and he props himself up on his elbows, gazing down at her in love-drunk confusion. His voice is breathy, winded from kissing her. "No?"

Rey releases his hair, reaching up to entwine her fingers at the nape of his neck. "It's just like the other videos," she explains, then hurries to add, "It's good. More than good. Nice. Hot." Maker help her, she's rambling. Thank goodness her face is already flushed from his attentions.

One gloved hand drifts down to cup the side of her head, thumb almost hesitantly skimming across her cheek. "The power thing," he remarks as understanding hits him.

Her hips roll up to brush over his pelvis, emphasizing their position. "You're always in charge. Is that what you write to them in your letters?"

His eyes widen, and his tongue wets his swollen lips. "We can change that," he assures her, taking care as he leans to one side and topples beside her.

Rey can't believe she's interrupted what was sure to be a good time to talk about the damn porn holos, but the deed is done. Not quite finished with him, she strokes a hand up his side, over his ribs, and across his chest. His heart beats wildly.

The quicker they fix this, the sooner they can resume their activities, right? "Where's your holopad?"

"I think it fell on the floor," he responds, leaning over as she watches him struggle to find the object in question. He rises too fast and almost smacks her in the face. "This was what I was writing," he mentions, sliding it over for her to read over the words. “It’s rough. Just a draft.”

_Yes, it's me again. The direction you’re going in is much better than before; however, the videos are still an abhorrent display of the giving nature our Supreme Leader possesses. He would never make the Jedi beg unless they have previously discussed and consented. Secondly, our glorious Leader would not plow into her like some low grade farmer. He would ease her, speak loving words to her, whisper naughty things that only she wants to hear._

_Next time, please proceed accordingly._

_Matt_  
_Radar Technician_  
_First Order_

Rey reads it with a smile as she realizes he tried to make it better for her. Well, her double. Knowing he would take care of her and relinquish control to her if she wanted it sends a fresh wave of slick to settle in her underwear. She tries to squirm without him noticing, but the tendril of pleasure leaks across their bond, making him gasp.

"So you wouldn't just plow into me?" she asks, wanting to stir him up even more.

"Never, sweetheart. I'd make sure you were ready and willing. There’s nothing I wouldn't do to make sure you were comfortable," he promises, handing over the stylus for her to change whatever she wanted.

"I think what I would like—would be for me to take control over you," she whispers.

His eyes darken and Rey fights the urge to shiver as primal lust overtakes his face. Trailing a gloved hand along her skin, he asks, "And what would you do to me, dear scavenger, if you had me at your mercy?"

Rey hums, eyes roaming over him as she gives the question a fair amount of thought. Not that she needs it. She's fantasized plenty in the months separating them from their last battle—not to mention since she'd found his erotic drawing during their recent Force encounter. She uses the stylus to pull up a blank screen on the holopad, then begins to notate her plan while simultaneously announcing it to Ben.

"I'd start with removing your shirt." Her eyes flick up from the screen as she writes. When he continues to watch her, Rey coughs and repeats: "Your shirt."

"You want it off?"

Rey catches her lower lip between her teeth. "I didn't look at you much last time."

His fingers work the fasteners holding his undershirt closed while he responds, "You wanted me to put on a cowl."

"I was trying to have a serious conversation."

He rolls the fabric off his shoulders and peels the garment from his arms, carefully folding it and setting it aside. When he's done, Ben holds his arms out, glancing at her for approval. "What next, sweetheart?"

Rey has to remember this is only phase one, and she's going to need to continue breathing if she wants to pass through any subsequent rounds. "Trousers. Whatever’s underneath. Get rid of them."

Ben quirks an eyebrow at her hasty speech, and Rey blushes as he complies. Taking off his pants requires him to stand, and he moves unnecessarily close—so close his arm brushes against her as he slides the leather over his hips toward his ankles. With his torso bent and his lips in range, Rey leans forward and places a swift peck on them before returning to the holopad, affecting a business-like air. When he begins plucking his gloves from his fingers, she adds, "Not those. Everything but your gloves."

He laughs softly, tugging on one of her sashes. "And when do you get naked?"

She pokes him with the end of the stylus. "After I tie you to the bed."

Ben's knee cracks against the side of the metal frame; his wince helps hide his reddening cheeks. "You're going to what?"

Rey's eyes search his for a brief moment as she makes a final note on the screen. Once finished, she sets it on the mattress and pulls her sash through her belt. Normally the garment functions as a scarf to keep out sun and sand. For this scenario, she has other ideas of how to employ it.

"May I tie your hands?" Consent, she knows, goes both ways. She almost hates to follow her initial question with a softer, "Do you trust me?"

He nods, presenting his hands wrist to wrist in front of his navel. "I do."

Rey caresses his arms with the finely woven fabric, then loops it around both arms, threading the end through the middle to create a pair of makeshift binders. She fashions a knot and pulls tightly though not enough to cut off his circulation.

Ben frowns at the binding, then looks at her skeptically. "This won't hold me long."

A thrill runs along her spine, heating her through at the dark, promising glint in his eyes. She has to swallow before commenting, "I know." She tugs on the end of her sash like a leash, prompting him to kneel on the bed once more. "Back," she directs, using a fingertip on his pec to guide him. Through their bond, she sends a mental image of him sprawled out against the mattress, arms above his head.

Ben chuffs, smirks, and obeys. "Like this?"

Rey crawls between his legs, then leans over his torso to tie the sash in place. It's another amateur knot, but she doesn't bother making it complicated. That's not the point.

Ben doesn't understand it yet. He tests the restraint, pulling the fabric taut. "Rey. You're going to have to do a better job. This will snap with hardly any effort."

"I know," she tells him again, smiling as she begins to disrobe herself. "You could tear my sash apart and take whatever you want. Just like the fake versions of you do on the recordings." Rey straddles him, top completely gone and only her leggings and underwear between them. He stares up at her with wide eyes. His chest rises and falls in near-perfect syncopation with her heartbeat. His expression says he is very much considering freeing himself and touching her, so Rey continues with her explanation: "But you won't. Not until I say you can. Until then, Ben Solo, you're _mine_."

Ben—around her, he’s finally starting to accept that name—shivers at the possession in her voice, the desperate look in her eyes, the way her lips lick her mouth as they take in his new position on the bed. There is a thrill in knowing he can break the bands around his wrists with a mere tug, or through the Force, but he is at her mercy. She stares at him like a predator about to devour a meal, and he never thought he would be so happy being the prey.

Rey lowers her body onto him, and the first press of her chest against his is searing. The heat that passes through their bond reminds him this is real, despite her being so far away. For this _moment_ they are connected. Her nose nuzzles his neck, smelling him as if unhurried. It’s such a contrast to the growing damp spot he can feel between her legs and her hardening nipples. He knows she wants this as much as he does, but she’s prolonging it. If it goes on much longer, she’s going to kill him.

The first press of her lips against his skin is such a shock, he bucks his hips in the air. She anchors him to the mattress by shifting her weight and forces Ben to settle with a glare. "I didn't say you could move," she scolds.

His cock twitches at the demanding tone. The gleam of satisfaction in her hazel eyes lets him know she feels every movement of his hard, swollen length.

"Are you going to be good?" she asks, trailing her lips just mere centimetres away from his, her breath dusting his skin.

He fights the goosebumps that her teasing causes. "Yes."

"What’s that? I didn’t hear you," she continues, moving her head up to his earlobe. Her hot, pink tongue darts out to lick it quickly.

"Yes, I'll be good," he tries again.

Her lips claim his, though the kiss isn’t what he expects. It’s soft, tentative to the point of being uncertain. Despite her confident demeanor in restraining him, he can sense her unease; she’s exploring, questioning, deciding whether or not he enjoys this, enjoys _her_.

Ben tries to convey everything he feels in this one kiss. This one he’ll always remember. Passion, lust, maybe even love, travel through the bond to her, and he can feel her body relax, relishing in his emotions and the confirmation he has no desire to stop.

She pulls away slowly, eyes fluttering open to take in his warm gaze.

"Maker, you are so beautiful."

She blushes as she continues her plan of placing kisses along his skin. Every part of him she greets with her lips is like a new favorite acquaintance: his collarbones, prominent and strong; his nipples, eager to pebble against her tongue; his ribs, shy but solid. She traces the vertical line splitting his torso from throat to navel, swirling her tongue around and inside the latter. Ben's abdomen contracts as he groans, trying to contain his movements as she asked.

It must be hard when she's not even half a head away from his straining cock. "You're being so good," she murmurs, planting more kisses on the ridges of his hips, using the tip of her nose to trail inward, nudging the side of his hot length.

The metal frame squeaks as he pulls on the bonds. "Rey—"

She lifts away, but only so she can adjust his heavy legs to cradle her body between them. Even using two hands, she can't fully surround his massive thighs. It's one thing all the videos got wrong, she thinks—casting men with scrawny legs to portray him. She suspects it was to make their dicks seem larger by comparison.

But Rey knows the power and magnitude of his thighs. They'd boosted her in battle and anchored her too. Her palm remembered the feel of him, the surge of strength that vibrated from him that day in Snoke’s throne room. As she smooths her hand across his skin, she feels that same energy. And she revels in the reality that, with Ben, his thighs and his cock are wholly proportional to the giant he is.

"Do you know what those clips get wrong?" she asks, casually running her fingertip along the underside of his erection, following a vein, gorged and throbbing. He grunts, as though words take too much effort. Rey grins and continues, "They have your double ram his cock down the girl's throat. . .and she clearly doesn't enjoy it."

"I've—" Ben huffs as she finally curls her fist around him. She places her other hand flat on his abdomen to remind him not to move. "I've written about that before."

"Pity," she purrs, bringing her head lower, poised to render him entirely speechless. "I don't think they've incorporated that criticism well."

She glances up at his face and finds him watching her with blown pupils, the tendons in his neck bulging with restraint. His hands are clamped around the makeshift tether, though she's not sure if he is desperate to hold on, or if he's seconds away from ripping it apart.

A stroke of, what Rey considers, genius springs to mind: she'll give him something else to occupy his hands. In a flash, she calls the holopad to her hand using the Force and selects the camera.

"Rey, what—?"

"For posterity," she responds. As soon as the application is up and running, she awkwardly feeds the holopad into his hands, refusing to let his cock free of her grip for even a moment. He holds the device, whiteknuckled, and Rey frowns, judging. "Angle down a bit."

He complies, but completes his question. "What is this for?"

Rey's tongue flicks out to taste his hot, velvet-soft head. A wicked grin forms on her lips when he bucks and swears. "So those inept creators can see just how much the Jedi girl loves sucking the Supreme Leader's huge, beautiful cock."

Ben almost comes then and there when her statement fills the space between them. There is no galaxy where he would imagine this fierce woman lapping at his cock much like a hungry Loth-cat. His brown eyes are unsure what to focus on, torn between Rey’s pink tongue cradling his throbbing cock, or the holopad recording her sinful actions where he can watch the way her lips wrap around him with a mischievous look in her captivating hazel eyes. Two visual, sensuous gifts.

“Rey,” he pants. “Stars, you feel amazing. I can’t—I don’t know how long I will last.”

His head slides deep, all the way to the back of her throat. Yet her lips still can’t reach his groin; her nose barely brushes it. Rey’s hand wraps around the base and she works him in a tantalizing rhythm, causing him to buck his hips. She gags around the sudden intrusion, and shame fills him for going too far. Ben strains against the fabric at his wrist, releasing one hand. The left struggles to hold on to the holopad. He gathers the hair falling out of her buns, holding it back from her face to check if she wants to stop. He conveys his apology through their bond.

Rey doesn’t seem to mind, though, if the way she swallows him again is any way to judge. Notched at the back of her throat, she moans around him, and the vibrations send an extra wave of pleasure through his system. His spine begins to tingle, and his balls tighten in response. Garbled, guttural sounds and long groans fall from his mouth. He’s so close.

Ben isn’t sure what passes through his brain and into their bond, but he feels the need to signal her in some way. Struggling to focus, he manages, “Sweetheart, I’m gonna—”  
The camera catches the dribble of spit leaking out of her mouth and down her chin. His cock glistens with her fluids every time she bobs her head.

“Sweet Maker, I can’t—”

A single thought crosses their bond back to him: _Come for me Ben. I want to taste you._

Thick tendrils of his cum spurt in her mouth, filling it with his tangy seed. She patiently swallows everything she can. When she pulls away, she licks her lips and purrs her content. Her warm hands brace on his chest as she peers up into the holopad's camera to say, "I've wanted to do that for longer than you know."

The only reason he is still gripping the device in his left hand is because, if he lets go, it will fall on her beautiful face and he'd never forgive himself. His heart seizes at her words, but he's not sure if they're true. She could be putting on an act for the camera. She didn't say the words directly to him, after all. Needing to know if this is real, he seeks to gain her attention by swiping a missed droplet of cum from her chin.

"Have you?" he asks.

Rey's eyes drift shut at the touch. When she opens them again, her hazel eyes don't seem to see the camera at all. They look from his face to his hand. Her palms sandwich his between them, raising his fingers closer to her mouth. Slowly, she mimics the movements she used on his cock, cleaning his finger with one long suck. "Yes, Ben," she whispers. "I've fantasized about this for months."

His chest tightens again as his mind swims. _Months _.__

"Me too."

The admission earns him a genuine smile that slides into a devilish smirk. "Did you imagine me sucking you off on my hands and knees?"

He hums in agreement and thought all at once. "I did picture those things, separately and together. But. . ."

Rey's hands squeeze his. "But what?"

While he didn't think it would be possible to blush after what Rey just did, Ben can feel his cheeks flaming. In the end, he decides being forthright is the best way to go about this. He may even get what he wants. "I imagined other things too," he tells her, voice thick. "Things that I get to do to you."

Ben's lips tremble with a grin, choosing to push the image into her mind rather than saying it aloud. He delights in the way her eyes widen and a hand flies to her mouth to cover a gasp. She may have shown no signs of being shy while taking his cock in her mouth, but his plans have painted the loveliest shade of red across her cheeks.

"You really want me to—?"

"Yes."

Rey takes the holopad from his hands and sets it on the bed. Whether it can capture their movements, Ben isn't sure, nor does he care. All that matters is that she stands on the mattress and steps higher, using the wall to hold herself steady as she finds a place to plant her feet on either side of his chest. She doesn't untie his other hand, but Ben won't need more than one for what he has in mind.

"Don't be afraid," he tells her while smoothing his hand up her leg and over her backside. "Sit."

Rey’s feet teeter dangerously on the mattress as she finds her footing. She almost feels as if she is going to fall before she feels Ben’s hand tighten at her hip and, all at once, she feels safe. It amazes her that a single motion from him can cause these feelings to erupt within her.

Slowly, she lowers herself to her knees, muscles quaking with anticipation and the strain of holding herself up. His breath ghosts over her wet center, and she clenches over the empty space within her.

“Ben,” she whimpers. All she has to do is sink onto his face to finally have his beautiful, plush mouth on her.

Ben watches in rapt fascination as her cunt glistens in the light, so wet he thinks it’s a dream. There’s a trail leaking from her center and trailing down her inner thigh. The only thing he wants to do is shove his mouth against her, but he won’t. He holds back, waiting for Rey to make the move. He’s lost to her whims and desires. He’ll serve her in whatever way she wants.

Tentatively, she positions her body mere centimeters away. Her musky scent is intoxicating, and he inhales deeply, committing her to memory. He’s amazed at his own restraint with her hovering just out of reach. Her skin radiates warmth against his face, and it flushes as he kneads her thighs. He can feel her trembling, sense her nervousness over such an intimate position.

“Please.” His murmured request is full of adoration and reverence. This is the push she needs to seat against him fully.

Nothing will ever match this moment, nothing will ever come _close_. Licking a broad stripe, her taste explodes against his mouth. It’s more exquisite than he’d ever imagined, and he knows with certainty that he will never get enough.

“Ben,” Rey pants above him. One of her hands finds its way into his hair and tugs sharply. The sting is pleasurable—confirmation of how well she likes what his mouth is doing to her.

Moving his tongue up and down, he laps at her arousal before settling on her swollen clit. Circling his tongue around it, he gently scrapes his teeth against her as a test, then sucks. The cry she emits is the most indecent sound he has ever heard. Music to his ears. As he continues his movements, he is rewarded with her lowered inhibitions. She holds onto his hair tighter, grinds her hips against his face, riding him. She’s generating the friction she needs in order to lose herself and he loves it.

Loves _her_.

Loves the way she gets a taste of something and claims it for herself. Loves how she is using his face as a tool for her to come. The thought of her fucking his tongue while he is trapped underneath her causes a pulse in his cock to beat with a valiant effort for round two.

Rey's hips rock back and forth over his face, bumping against his nose, moving over his mouth, his chin. She's looking for something that will send her over the edge, but her frantic gyrations aren't going to get her there. She needs steady attention to that small nub she keeps moving away from his seeking lips.

Ben stills her with a firm grip at the curve where her hips taper into her slim waist. _Patience_ , he coaches through their bond. _Let me take care of you, Rey._

She pauses momentarily, panting his name above him. Leaning back slightly, she meets his eyes and holds his gaze. "Please, Ben."

Is this why the videos had the stand-in Jedi begging? Her face and chest are flushed, the latter rising rapidly as she fights with the urge to continue writhing against his mouth.

Ben continues to stare into her eyes as he inches his mouth forward and closes his lips over her sensitive clit. The suction he uses starts gentle, but climbs in intensity within a breath's span.

Rey gasps, her whole body shuddering at the sensation. "Kriff!"

Ben doesn't let up. He cycles through long, hard draws and short, light ones. At the start of every round, he swipes his tongue through her folds, stiffening it to tease her entrance. The repetitive stimulation gives her something to anticipate. She edges toward her climax quicker and quicker, until she's squeezing his head between her supple thighs and crying out his name.

He doesn't break away immediately; instead, he coaxes her down in increments, savoring her release and the way she pets his hair, scratching his scalp each time an aftershock spikes her pleasure. Satisfied with her experiment, she unties his other hand while he tenderly, he cleans her up as she did for him, savoring every bit of her.

With a final kiss to her cunt and both hands free, he lifts her off of him easily and settles her on his bed. He wastes no time in climbing on top of her, his cock already growing at the sight of her well-fucked and spread out on his bed.

The dazed smile she gives him is intimate—far too intimate for what was started out as two people acting out their fantasies—but in this moment, understanding blooms between them. They can search each other’s feelings through the bond, and they know: this isn’t a one-time thing to satisfy their curiosities. This is more than that. This is the start of something permanent, something neither of them thought they’d ever have.

“Don’t worry,” she whispers, reaching up to touch the scar on his face. “I feel it too.”

Her fingers trail up to gently run through his mussed, sweaty hair as they stare at one another. Lust gives way to something more vulnerable in her eyes, something. . . else. It causes him to shiver, and Rey pulls him closer to her in response.

The reality is, he would do anything for this woman. Burn cities to the ground and grow gardens in their place if she wanted. Rey is his sun and stars and all the planets in the galaxy. If only she knew how _much_ he felt for her—a fire blazing within him, a spark of light burning for her, always.

It would be unrealistic to ask her to return his feelings. What was he compared to her? A monster.

“Don’t. Please don’t think about yourself that way.”

Unable to form a response, he lowers his eyes, staring at her neck as he remembers she can hear his thoughts. The bond is connecting them in body _and_ mind. In a low, broken voice he admits, “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

Rey grabs one of his hands and entwines her fingers in his. He stares at the wonder of it, how perfect they feel together, palm to palm.

“I do feel the same you know.” A smile forms on her face, soft and tender as she follows his gaze to their hands.

“You can’t possibly know the extent of what I feel for—”

“I know, Ben. I know.”

Rey lifts her head off the bed and softly sets her lips against his. The kiss is different than anything they shared earlier. Gone are the lust and passion. Left in their place is ardent devotion along with something he can feel but isn’t ready to say out loud just yet.

As the kiss continues, his cock nudges against her slick entrance, but Ben wants to hear she’s ready for this. For him, at least, there’s no going back. “Are you sure?”

She wiggles while she emits a low keening sound. “Please. Yes.”

In one single movement, he slides inside of her. The Force hums at the balance, at the union of light and dark intertwining in one. Together, they find a slow rhythm. Neither are in a rush to end this moment, to end something that has been brewing in their minds for months.

Rey clutches him to her chest, and she can feel his hot breath on her neck, panting between intermittent kisses. It isn’t long until his hips begin to stutter. Somehow his cock grows _thicker_ and _harder_ within her, and her walls clench snuggly in response.

“Kriff, Rey. I can’t—I’m gonna—” Ben stops, unable to form any other words, lost in pleasure. He lifts their intertwined hands and snakes them between their bodies, silently asking her to help him as he rubs her clit. She adjusts the pressure to what she likes, and the cry she emits echoes in his ears.

“Ben,” she whines loudly.

That’s all it takes for him to spill inside her, coating her hot cunt with more of his spend. The feeling of being filled paired with his pulsing cock pushes Rey over the edge, too. She shakes and moans as she comes until Ben silences her with a bruising kiss.

* * *

The Force is cruel. No sooner does Ben twist to his side, pull Rey to his chest, and smooth back her damp hair does their bond end. Rey disappears back to her bunk room on the _Falcon_. His dick, which had just begun to soften inside her, drops against his leg and makes him keenly aware of the loss.

What will become of them now? Does Rey truly understand what she means to him? Perhaps he didn't have to voice it for her to know. Perhaps he's learned how to show her through other measures.

Ben rolls from the bed and moves to the 'fresher to clean himself up. When he returns, he picks up the discarded holopad. It's still recording. Pressing the cease function, he looks at the miniature frames of their time together, still not believing that he and Rey actually did the things the Net's atrocious imitations have tried to capture for months. This, what he's holding in his hands, is the real deal.

He watches it for three nights, consecutively, lamenting the piss-poor angles and lighting—neither of them are experts at creating visual harmony, nor were they much concerned about it during the moment—but finds his heart races in the instant Rey moans as he enters her for the first time. That sound, that utterance of a complete, unified entity that is a mixture of themselves and something much, much greater, is what brings him the most joy.

"Are you. . .are you crying?"

He glances up, and she's sitting on his desk, one foot dangling off the side, the other tucked to her chest. It's such an easy, non-confrontational pose that it shocks him for a moment. Then he has to rub the water from his eyes to see her properly. "I wasn't sure you'd be back."

Hopping down from her perch, she sits on the edge of the bed instead. "Even without the Force, I'd have come to you. I want to be with you, Ben."

He remembers a time when she arrived of her own volition, encased in a pod from his father's ship, and smiles. "I shouldn't have doubted. I won't again," he swears. "And I am with you. Always."

She kisses his cheek sweetly, innocently. Then she peers over his shoulder and gasps. "Ben Solo, is that what I think it is?"

He chuckles at her tone. "I could say I missed you, and maybe I did—" He absolutely did. "—but I have to admit, it's the only video of us that doesn't put me in a rage."

Rey's finger flips through the footage, pausing some frames to admire them. A hum of thought tells him trouble is coming. "Why don't we send it out?"

He blinks at her, incredulous. "What?"

"Send it out!" she repeats more enthusiastically. "To those awful creators, the ones who make us look bad. We should show them what a moment between us is really like." At his aghast expression, she adds on, "Look, you can't even see our faces properly. Too many shadows. And then, you know, your head is kinda lost between my thighs for a while. They'll never know it's actually us!"

He’d argue that point, considering the way she looked into the camera right after sucking his cock—an image he’s viewed many, many times now. Though maybe they could cut that out. "Rey, what you’re suggesting is—"

"Isn't that why we filmed it in the first place?"

He has to concede. "I suppose, but—"

"Then let's do it." She steals the holopad and dashes from the bed, quickly typing with one hand instead of using the stylus.

"Wait." He scrambles after her, and she shrieks with laughter as she sidesteps his arm before it can encircle her waist. It's obvious she won't give up on her goal. And really, what would be the harm? There's nothing he's ashamed of in the video, and Rey certainly doesn't seem bashful about it. The worst that could happen is Hux finding it and demanding he issue a useless cease and desist notice.

Ben drags a hand down his face. "We can't send it without scrubbing the origin code."

She huffs as if offended. "What do you think I'm deleting right now?" She taps a few more buttons and then turns the holopad over to him. "I deleted your last draft and typed up a new message. How does this sound?"

Ben scans over the paragraphs with a smirk. She's more succinct with her words than he's been as his alias thus far, so he makes a few adjustments for consistency’s sake. In the end, the accompanying message reads:

_Dear ForcePorn Creatives,_

_We would like to take this opportunity, before you squander funds on sets or lackluster talents for another episode of your fake "found footage," to provide you with a rare gem: an actual recording of his most Supreme Leader and his Jedi lover._

_You will note that this material is much different from what you have thus far purported to be captured couplings between the two most powerful Force users in current existence. Not only is the actual Jedi more beautiful, alluring, and otherwise captivating than the sad counterfeits you've offered, the Supreme Leader is built like a tree meant for climbing._

Ben asked three times for her to reconsider the last description, but Rey refused.

_While the content of this video doesn't take place in an exciting location—the_ Whisper’s _cockpit_ , Supremacy's _throne room, and_ Falcon's _‘fresher were all inspired choices, of course, but inappropriate for impromptu relations—it makes up for it in the way the Jedi vocalizes her pleasure in a myriad of pitches and volumes. (Please ignore all instances of the name "Ben"; this blip is due to poor sound quality, and of course, the name she shouts while climaxing is "Ren" after our masterful Supreme Leader.)_

_Use this video to educate yourselves and the rest of the galaxy, if published to the Net, on how the Supreme Leader and his Jedi sweetheart truly love one another._

_Sincerely yours,_  
_Matt the Radar Technician & Kira the Engineer_  
_First Order Enterprises_

_[Download Attachment]_

**Author's Note:**

> Come check us out on Twitter: @Cmndr_Crouton & @GloveKinkQueen


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